


A Part of Something Bigger

by Starrie_Wolf



Series: Fic Exchanges [Starrie Wolf] [8]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sky High (2005), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Canon Dialogue, Creative reinterpretations of canon, First Day of School, Fusion, Gen, Humor, In a manner of speaking, Magic School, Marvel Cameos, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-16 10:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4622094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first day of senior year for the new student council president Peggy Carter, and her to-do list is pretty much the same as anyone else's:<br/>1. Catching up with friends, check.<br/>2. Guiding the freshmen through orientation, check.<br/>3. Getting her head out of the clouds (well, not <i>literally</i>, seeing that her entire school floats above the clouds) and getting down to work, check.<br/>4. Throwing a great "back to school" party, well... does an alien invasion count as a party?<br/>(Only according to Tony Stark.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Part of Something Bigger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paperclipbitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbitch/gifts).



> S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy is a mobile college floating on its own island above the clouds. Students have to live there during term time, since the school might not even be in their home country the next day. Would make getting back difficult.
> 
> I can't imagine anyone putting up with the Hero/Sidekick nonsense so it's been pre-emptively removed.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

“Hey, Peggy.”

A smile stretched across her lips at the sight of her boyfriend jogging up to her, clad in his usual workout gear – running shorts and a thin muscle shirt that stretched attractively over his chest. It being late September, the chill was starting to set in, but judging from his attire he didn’t seem to feel it. “Hey, soldier.”

As expected, Steve pulled a face at the nickname. “You’ve been spending too much time with Natasha,” he complained.

Peggy merely smiled mysteriously, neither confirming nor denying it. She was saved from having to give an answer by more footsteps in their direction, accompanied by heavy wheezes for breath. Sam slowly jogged up to them, clutching at a stitch in his side.

“Dude, you just ran, like, thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

Steve grinned back at the winded man, bright and mischievous. “I guess I got a late start.”

The Falcon groaned, rolling his eyes. “Really? You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap.” He shook his head, shooting Steve an exasperated look. “Seriously, did you get _even faster_ over summer break or something? There has to be a limit as to how much of a boost you can get from falling into a vat of radioactive waste, right?”

Steve shrugged cluelessly. “Ask Prof Banner, don’t ask _me_.” He shielded his eyes with one hand as the latest school bus flew into the parking lot, jousting for a free parking space with the rest of the yellow buses. Literally; the buses were nudging each other like overgrown children. “Hey, are those the freshmen?”

They must be; only freshmen and the occasional sophomore ever gawked like tourists at their surroundings. For seniors like them, S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy was already a second home – albeit one that sat above the clouds and came equipped with invisibility shields, but then, S.H.I.E.L.D. was a superhero school for those with superpowers. Peggy patted down her skirt, checking for non-existent wrinkles. “Right, that’s my cue.”

“You’ll do great,” reassured Steve, and the absolute certainty in his voice made her almost subconsciously straighten, her gait surer. If Peggy didn’t know any better, she would have said that Captain America’s pep talks were part of his superpower, though Bucky had sworn up and down Steve had always had that innate ability to make people believe in themselves, even when he was a scrawny little waif of a thing.

She stopped in front of the freshmen milling around in confusion on the front lawn, their luggage scattered all around them.

“Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. I’m the student council president, Peggy Carter, and I’ll be your tour guide for today.”

Turning smartly on her heel, Peggy led the way into the main hall. Behind her, she could hear the excited chatters break out, as though they thought she’d become temporarily deaf the moment her back turned. “ _Oh my God, is that Sweet Dreams? She’s even prettier in person than on TV!”_

Well, as far as superhero codenames went, she could have gotten something far worse. Bucky still wasn’t sure _how_ he got saddled with “Winter Soldier” in the first place. Privately, Peggy thought that he just looked like a [particularly murderous kitten](http://40.media.tumblr.com/8b825afdc310e31737285416c18e7c9f/tumblr_nq016eoT041usgvplo4_500.png), even in full combat uniform with the mask on. Hardly anything as fear-inspiring as his moniker suggested.

_“Also, why does everyone think I’m Russian? I’m from Brooklyn, same as Steve!”_

At least the public media saw her as her own person instead of just Captain America’s girlfriend, after the last time one of the bad guys made sexual insinuations towards her and Peggy punched all his teeth in.

The One-Eyed Fury, Headmaster of S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, gave her a single nod as the freshmen filed into the gymnasium. His gaze swept imperiously over the assembled students, in that same glance registering and simultaneously dismissing them.

“No doubt there are many things you _think_ you know about how S.H.I.E.L.D. operates, courtesy of the public _media_.” The word ‘media’ was pronounced in the same tone someone might say ‘poison’. “The student handbook will have told you otherwise. Those of you who have read the handbook already, raise your hands.”

A hand shot up, its owner shooting everyone else a smirk when no one else followed suit.

“Hmm.” Fury smiled, and it wasn’t a nice smile. Even Peggy had to suppress a shiver, and she _knew_ it wasn’t directed at her. “Detention, tonight.”

The smug look slid off his face. “What? Why?”

Fury raised an unimpressed eyebrow, somehow managing to convey his distaste with his mien alone. “Because,” he enunciated clearly, as though speaking to a particularly dull creature, “the handbook has not been issued yet.”

There was a smattering of nervous laughter, which died down the moment Fury levelled his gaze at them again.

“Your professors.” He made a gesture, and as though an invisible curtain was ripped away the very air _rippled_ , parting to reveal the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy staff arrayed on either side of him, resplendent in full uniform and non-reflective anti-glare black shades. Peggy was sure none of the freshmen realised that they collectively started backwards. “In a regular school, now will be the time I make introductions and give some trite welcome speech.” Fury regarded them severely. “But this is S.H.I.E.L.D. If you do not already know who each and every one of the staff is… perhaps you need to pay more attention to the news.”

The staff probably had to secretly practise their sternest blank faces for this display every year, except maybe Prof May. She really always looked that terrifying, even when smiling. _Especially_ when smiling.

“Your scores say you’re the best and the brightest of this year, the future superheroes of the world.” He sniffed, the slight sound carrying in the deathly silence of the gymnasium, conveying his doubt of the veracity of that statement without him uttering a single word to that effect. “You have all signed the confidentiality and liability forms before you even got on that bus this morning. From today onwards, you are a part of something bigger, something that deals with threats on a global level. If you need someone to hold your hand, spoon-feed you information, pat you on the head for doing your job – you are in the wrong place. Miss Carter.”

Peggy nearly jumped. As things stood, she barely kept her surprise at being called suddenly to a slight twitch. “Yes, Sir?”

“Assemble a team. My office, fifteen minutes.”

She glanced in confusion at the gathered freshmen. Wasn’t she supposed to give them a tour of the school facilities? At least, that was what she remembered from her own freshman orientation, four years ago.

The One-Eyed Fury stared back at her, as though daring her to question his orders.

No hand-holding. Right.

Peggy saluted sharply and left the gymnasium without a backwards glance, pulling out her phone for a mass text message as she went.

~*~*~*~*~

Not even ten minutes had passed when Fury swept into his office like a king reclaiming his throne, his trench coat billowing behind him. Without wasting time on small talk, he pressed a few buttons on the computer, and then projected a satellite image of some kind of compound onto the wall for them all to see.

“An unknown energy spike was detected in New Mexico about an hour ago.” He tapped one of the buildings, and some kind of graph appeared. Energy readings in the area, most likely, given the sudden sharp peak several – she squinted at the axis just to be sure – several _hundred_ times its usual output amount.

“Banner tells me it’s more explosive than a nuclear bomb.”

Well, that was alarming indeed. She could see why Fury had cut short the freshmen orientation. Saving the world didn’t wait for anyone.

“Prof May has agreed to loan you The Bus. Meet her in the hangar.”

After two years of working on the active mission roster, they knew a dismissal when they heard one. “Sir.” All of them were already carrying everything they needed for the mission – Steve having grabbed Peggy’s gear for her once he got her text – so it was a matter of heading for the hangar.

The Bus was the fastest of the Quinjets, thus named because it was capable of housing a mobile headquarters just like the _Magic School Bus_. Prof May was standing at the top of the loading ramp, Prof Coulson beside her. Clint perked up at the sight of his favourite professor. It was no secret that Prof May guarded The Bus like her firstborn, and as the ace pilot in their year Clint had been _dying_ for a peek into the cockpit. So far it hadn’t happened, but Clint was probably hoping Prof Coulson could sweet talk her around.

Prof May glanced at them, probably doing a head-count, before marching off to the cockpit. Prof Coulson’s arm shot out to stop Clint from following like a lost bird. “Maybe on the flight back,” he whispered, winking conspiratorially, and Clint brightened like a child on Christmas Day.

~*~*~*~*~

Sending two S.H.I.E.L.D. staff, four seniors and three juniors to secure a single base of operations might have been overkill, but The One-Eyed Fury was a firm believer in not leaving anything to chance. With Hawkeye and The Falcon handling aerial surveillance and Rising Tide monitoring all communications, the rest of them split into pairs to search the compound: The Cavalry with The Agent, Captain America with Sweet Dreams, and Winter Soldier with Black Widow.

“All the energy in the whole place’s being diverted to the basement,” reported Skye.

“Copy that,” Prof May’s voice was cool and brooked no arguments. “All teams, converge on the basement.”

Steve kicked down the steel-reinforced door leading to the basement, Peggy gliding behind him like a shadow. The base seemed abandoned, but she couldn’t imagine anyone just _leaving_ a power source more explosive than a nuclear bomb – Fury wasn’t prone to exaggeration – unprotected.

“What is _that_?”

The basement was empty save for some sort of glowing cube, revolving seemingly unsupported in mid-air.

Prof May raised her phone, pointing the camera towards the hovering cube. “Rising Tide, do you have visual?”

“Yes.” Skye paused, and for a moment the comm was silent except for the swift clicking of keys. “Search algorithm returns zero matches. Nobody in the world has seen something like this before.”

Prof Coulson pointed his own phone at the Cube, flicking quickly through the screens until he got to the app he wanted. “Gamma radiation for this thing goes through the roof,” he reported. “Confirmed, this is what tripped Banner’s sensors then.”

“No thermal signature or transmission signal detected,” continued Prof May, shooting Prof Coulson an undecipherable look that Peggy knew from past experience meant she was as puzzled as the rest of them were. “Best to contain it in a lead-lined case anyway.”

“I’ve got it,” confirmed Clint, and moments later he appeared at the door to the basement in a full hazmat suit, wheeling the lead-lined case into the room. Everyone else took cover as Clint stopped in front of the Cube. At the go-ahead from Prof Coulson, he reached forwards cautiously, plucked the cube from the air, and set it in the box.

Nothing happened.

Peggy edged forwards. The box was laughably large compared to the tiny Cube nestled within – they’d been prepared for an actual nuclear bomb – but she’d long learnt not to judge things by their appearances.

Prof Coulson shut the lid with a decisive ‘click’. “We’re taking it in.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Well, the bad news is, we have no clue what it does.” Prof Banner straightened up from the multitude of scanning equipment scattered over the desk, turning to face the Headmaster. “But the good news is, for some reason it’s inert.”

“So it’s not likely to blow my school out of the air,” confirmed Headmaster Fury, leaning forwards against the desk. “Because you see, Banner, we are currently _flying over one of the most densely-populated cities in the world_. If this thing –” he jabbed at the Cube, buried under a pile of scanners “– suddenly decides to explode, it’s going to blow up half of New York.”

Prof Banner shrugged. “Take us out to the Pacific Ocean,” he suggested, “because I can’t promise that.”

Headmaster Fury exhaled slowly, nodding at Deputy Headmistress Hill, who immediately began pulling up holographic navigation panels on the burnished metal of his desk. His single eye roved over the rest of them, assembled in his office but seemingly forgotten in the bustle. “I want a 24/7 guard on this thing. If it so much as _twitches_ , I want to know about it.”

“Roger that,” Bucky answered immediately, shooting a tiny grin in Steve’s direction. Steve rolled his eyes at his best friend’s horrible pun, but followed suit as the rest of them answered in the affirmative.

They withdrew into a corner to discuss the guard rotation.

“Tech’s not really my speciality,” Skye said apologetically. “We’re probably better off with someone who can actually _use_ all these scanning equipment.” She bit her lip thoughtfully. “Hey, you think we can bring Tony Stark into this?”

Steve frowned. “As in, Howard Stark’s son?” Everyone knew about Howard Stark, the controversial S.H.I.E.L.D. alumnus who’d eventually retired from the superhero business and then immediately signed on as a weapons consultant for the United States military. His title might have been ‘consultant’, but it was an open secret that he was the head of the manufacturing department. Thanks to his efforts, the United States military had access to weapons at least twenty years more advanced than anywhere else, and rose unchallenged to the reigning superpower in the world. Steve, who didn’t approve of bullying of any sort, disliked Stark on principle alone.

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah, kid’s a technophile like his Dad, right?”

“Yeah, but isn’t he a freshman?” asked Peggy, remembering a dark-haired boy half-hidden in the crowd. She’d seen enough photographs of Tony Stark splashed all over the tabloids – having a controversial millionaire for a father and a supermodel for a mother probably wasn’t easy on the kid – to recognise him on sight. “Today’s only his first day.”

“If his Ability Score’s as high as his father’s, age won’t matter,” asserted Skye. “Fitz says he’d seen some of Stark junior’s earliest designs, before they got classified as state secrets. He says Stark’s technophile Ability is at least as high as his own, and the kid was only _six_ back then. It’s been a dozen years, Stark’s Ability might very well have exceeded his father’s by now.”

“Doesn’t Howard Stark, like, hold the Ability Score record for technophiles?”

Peggy sighed at Natasha’s question. “Yeah, he does,” she confirmed. Steve was still scowling, but it was clear he’d been outvoted on the matter. “Right, it’s settled, we’re bringing Stark on board.”

~*~*~*~*~

“You want _me_ on a top-secret project?” Tony Stark blurted out far too loudly, looking utterly gleeful.

The redheaded woman seated across from him put her forehead in her hands as heads turned in their direction. Peggy was already regretting cornering Stark in the cafeteria – the first time any of them could get to the freshman – because it was clearly shaping up to be a mistake. “Tony, inside voice,” the redhead reminded.

“Ah, oops.” Stark didn’t look the slightest bit apologetic, but he did obligingly lower his voice. “Ooooh, I’m in, I’m so in!”

Steve’s eye twitched. “Can’t you be serious for a moment here?” he demanded. “Who do you think you are?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist,” rattled off Stark without missing a single beat, beaming back at them like it was an accomplishment.

“You may be a genius,” conceded Steve, making the insouciant grin on the freshman’s face grow wider for a moment before he continued, “but you better stop pretending to be a superhero.”

The smirk dropped completely off Stark’s face, the grim expression looking foreign on his face. “A superhero? Like you?” He scoffed. “You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle.”

“Tony!” hissed the other two at his table, the man sitting beside Stark going so far as to grab his friend’s arm.

So he _did_ know who Steve was. Peggy was beginning to wonder, given that he hadn’t so much as blinked when the two of them asked Stark if they could join his group for lunch. She caught Steve’s arm when he made to swing at Stark, letting none of the pain show on her face, and squeezed his wrist threateningly as she too stood up. They weren’t going to make a scene in the cafeteria. They _couldn’t_.

“Ten o’ clock, tonight, antechamber to Fury’s office.”

She had to get out of there before _she_ decked Tony Stark.

~*~*~*~*~

The sound of Steve’s phone ringing was the first sign something might not be right. Peggy rolled over slowly, allowing Steve to free the arm trapped underneath her in order to get to his phone.

Then her own phone started ringing, adding to the cacophony for the barest handful of seconds before Peggy lunged out of bed, snatched it up, and had it pressed to her ear before her eyes were fully open. Someone calling Steve wasn’t unusual. Someone calling _both of them_ at the same time, given the unidentified object they were currently guarding, could only indicate a catastrophe in the making.

“Yes?”

“Finally,” the vaguely-familiar male voice on the other end huffed, and it took Peggy moments to place the speaker, her mind still sluggish from sleep.

“Stark? How did you get my number?” She frowned when Steve’s voice came out of the receiver before she could speak, turning slightly to look at his profile in the dark. A conference call?

“Hacked it, obviously,” Stark’s voice was breezy, though she could pick up notes of strain in it. “Listen, something weird’s going on. You didn’t pair any couples together for the guard rotations, right?”

“No…” Peggy trailed off at the odd question. There was a very good reason they never assigned the same couple to guard duty together, and that was to prevent distractions. She’d taken the first shift with Bucky, and Steve was due to go with Sam later on, which meant it was currently Clint and Natasha’s turn. It must be near the end of Stark’s surveillance duty shift; Skye would be handling the later part of the night. It had been obvious from the start that Stark should be kept as far away from Steve as possible.

“Huh,” Stark rolled the word around in his mouth. “Because they’re fighting.”

Steve’s mouth opened incredulously, but before he could start arguing with Stark again Peggy waved him quiet. If it _were_ a prank call, she was personally dragging the freshman to Fury.

“Better hurry,” Stark’s voice had lost all of its lightness from earlier. He sounded deadly serious. “They look like they’re really trying to kill each other.”

~*~*~*~*~

It wasn’t a prank call.

Peggy stared from the walkway two levels above, open-mouthed, when Clint casually flipped over the knife in his hand – a trick he’d learnt from Bucky – and went straight for Natasha’s jugular vein. The other woman was deathly silent, using her preternatural flexibility to escape the fatal blow, at the same time scrabbling for a grip on Clint’s combat vest. But her best friend knew her too well, knew she was going for his neck, and instead of grabbing her arm like anyone else might have done he leant out of her reach instead.

“What is going on here?”

Neither Natasha nor Clint answered Steve, not that she’d expected them to. At the kind of speeds they were moving at, a momentary distraction could prove to be fatal. Although… Peggy frowned and squinted. No, she wasn’t mistaken. Natasha didn’t take the slight opening Clint had just left her, likely because her finishing move would have left behind a dead body. Only _one_ of them was fighting to kill.

What was going on?

“Uh, guys?” Stark’s voice issued out of the nearest intercom, making Steve and Peggy both jump. Even Natasha twitched, though Clint didn’t so much as blink. “I could be wrong, but don’t the controls for all the shields in this school lie beyond this point?”

Peggy glanced down past the catwalks, though she already knew the answer. They were standing near S.H.I.E.L.D.’s core generators, and the faint vibration was audible even from her position. “Yeah, they are.”

“Well, all the defensive ones seem to be down?” his voice lilted into a vaguely questioning tone at the end. “At least, all of these have a red light blinking next to them and all the rest have a green light, so I could be wrong, but I really don’t think I am.”

Peggy’s eyes flickered down to the two still battling it out on the narrow walkway suspended beneath them. That… might explain why the two of them were _here_ instead of watching the mysterious Cube. The question was, why?

Steve flipped himself over the railing, shield attached to his back, and _leapt_. He landed with a solid ‘thunk’ on the walkway three levels down, completely bypassing the level Clint and Natasha were on altogether, and began jogging towards the core generator. Clint flung himself backwards, putting some distance between himself and Natasha, and looked ready to follow Steve. But Natasha was there before he could swing himself over, slamming his head into the railing with an audible ‘crack’ that made Peggy wince in sympathy.

Clint didn’t get back up.

“Widow, report,” she called down, her gun trained on Natasha. Before she figured out what was going on, she wasn’t going down there to face the best close-combat fighter in the entire school. Granted, her own Ability would give her an edge in close-combat, but Peggy wouldn’t be able to do anything if she couldn’t even _touch_ Natasha.

Natasha’s eyes flickered up to her, but her hands didn’t shake as they expertly checked Clint’s pulse and the side of his head. “Hawkeye was behaving erratically during our shift, so I tailed him when he said he was going for a bathroom break and confronted him when he came out of the Core.”

“Stark?”

The freshman’s voice issued out of the intercom again. “There’s no cameras in there, so I don’t know what he was doing, but it’s like she said. He said he was going for a bathroom break, went all the way down those catwalks, came back out, ran into her, and they started fighting. I called you right after that.”

Peggy hummed, lowering her gun slightly. Natasha flashed her the hand-signs for _unconscious_ and _possible concussion_ , and rolled Clint over into the recovery position. “Any idea why?”

Natasha hesitated, rising slowly. “His eyes were glazed over the entire fight,” she finally said. “I don’t think he _knew_ who he was fighting, or why.”

“Mind control?” wondered Stark.

Peggy shook her head slowly, noticing out of the corner of her eye Steve coming out of the lowest level. He looked up and flashed her a very exaggerated thumbs-up. The defensive shields were rebooting successfully, and should be fully up within half an hour. “But _when_ would –”

“He touched the Cube,” interrupted Natasha.

“He was wearing a hazmat suit!” protested Peggy automatically, though that could very well be true. Clint was the only one who had come close to direct contact with the Cube; even Prof Banner had left it in the box when he was doing his scans.

Natasha shrugged, her hair an angry slash of red in the relative darkness. “The hazmat suit doesn’t stop everything. We know that.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the school-wide alarms started blaring.

“That wasn’t me.” Stark muttered over the shrill noise, sounding surprised.

The invasion alarms, Peggy identified after a pause. They were under attack.

Then the intercom clicked on in the distance, and this time Peggy could hear it echoing in the halls outside. Stark must have somehow disconnected that one intercom from the whole network to speak to them. “This is not a drill,” Prof Garrett’s voice came over the speakers, and mid-word his voice came through the intercom Stark had been using as well. The technophile must have reconnected it to the network. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is under attack. Portals will begin appearing in a few minutes, carrying humanoid invaders riding some form of flying transportation and giant mechanic… turtles.”

There was a cough, and Headmaster Fury’s voice rose over the still-shrieking alarms. “Future superheroes of the world, you’ve heard our resident Clairvoyant. Are you going to cower alone in your dorm rooms, or are you ready to be a part of something bigger?”

The alarms were turned off, plunging the halls into ringing silence.

“Turtles,” repeated Steve slowly.

Peggy shook her head, feeling hysterical laughter bubbling out of her throat as she took off at a run towards the nearest exit. “We’ll see in a few minutes.”

~*~*~*~*~

Prof Garrett wasn’t wrong, decided Peggy. Those really _did_ look like turtles.

“Oh, goodie, I’m not too late.”

They started, glancing back at Tony Stark, who had just appeared out of the exit. He was doubled over, panting. “Stark, what are you doing here?” asked Steve, vaguely incredulous. Fury’s little speech had been motivational, but the average freshman _would_ know they weren’t prepared for a melee yet. “Do you even know how to fight?”

“I’m sure I’ll fail Close Combat class tomorrow,” agreed Stark cheerfully, flexing the fingers of one hand. He was carrying a metal briefcase in his other hand, painted a garish red-and-gold. Probably one of his inventions, decided Peggy. With a father like Howard Stark, Tony Stark probably did know how to build unmanned drones. Couldn’t he have just controlled it remotely like the other technophiles did, though?

The floodlights clicked on like miniature suns, washing the entire area in artificial light. Peggy could have hugged the person who thought of that; her night-vision wasn’t as enhanced as some of the other superheroes’.

Beside her, Steve squinted in the sudden glare, shielding his eyes with his left hand. Then his lips pursed, and the shield left his right hand in an almighty upwards arc as though he were bowling. There was an inhuman shriek, and then one of the humanoid creatures toppled off the scooter it had been riding.

The empty scooter bounced off a blood-red shield moments before it would have crashed into the school walls, and Peggy squinted to see Scarlet Witch standing atop of the stairs, her hands dancing through the air like an orchestra conductor’s as tidal waves of scarlet energy poured off her. The Maximoff twins were a year below her, so she didn’t know much about them other than their signature abilities.

Or, as Prof Hill had once put it, when the two of them first walked through her doors three years ago, “He’s fast, she’s weird.”

Speaking of the twins, yes, there was the other one. A streak of blue-silver blurred down the front lawn like a shooting star, leapt onto the empty scooter his sister was still holding afloat like gravity couldn’t touch him, and rocketed straight for the nearest alien invader. Quicksilver lived up to his moniker, never staying still long enough for his multiple afterimages to resolve.

Lightning crackled in the otherwise clear sky, striking one of the giant turtles with unerring accuracy. It made some sort of howling shriek, waddling through the air towards its new target. Thor Odinson stood fearlessly atop the floodlights, his trusty hammer in hand. Electricity wreathed his wrist as the giant turtle swam towards him, mouth open to devour him whole, and Thor let loose a veritable Gungnir of lightning directly into its gaping maw.

The remaining aliens screeched as the giant turtle crashed down onto the lawn, spasming. Some of them disembarking from their scooters, waving some sort of bayonet around. Peggy’s eyes narrowed as their weapons began firing lasers the exact hue of the Cube’s eerie glow.

So, it was definitely all connected, then.

Stark bounced on his toes like a five-year-old child as they came closer, twisting some sort of metallic bracelet around his arm. Peggy hoped the freshman had a clue what he was doing, because it was far too late for him to run. Perhaps he’d managed to design some sort of electromagnetic force field? It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing she’d seen by far. Last year, one of the freshmen had managed to build a machine that could generate a reality-warping vortex. By sheer _accident_.

Fury hadn’t been pleased with the resultant thundersnow.

The metal briefcase burst open, metal parts swirling around Stark as though someone had just violently shaken a snowglobe. Peggy’s eyes widened, because each of those pieces was painted the same garish red-and-gold, settling into the shape of a horribly familiar – to anyone who regularly paid close attention to the news like they did – metal suit around Stark junior.

Iron Man’s golden faceplate clicked into place a second later, hiding Stark’s face from view.

“You –” began Steve.

She could hear Tony’s smile even though she couldn’t see his face. “I _am_ Iron Man,” he agreed, right before he shot into the air like a heat-seeking missile and fired a repulsor blast directly into the nearest giant turtle.

The same Iron Man, who’d been spotted by news helicopters in the Middle East, helping to evacuate civilian refugees from war zones. That same Iron Man, who was last photographed while rescuing trapped people from flaming buildings when the Doombots invaded Malibu earlier that summer. That very Iron Man who’d been rumoured – but never confirmed – to have been built personally by Howard Stark before his untimely demise, to be Tony Stark’s artificial intelligence bodyguard.

She met Steve’s shocked look for a split-second, before they too had to throw themselves into the fray, the meaty ‘thunk’ of Steve’s shield meeting flesh the accompaniment to the barking of her Walther. She really should have brought some heavier artillery, reflected Peggy with an uncharacteristic scowl, but she hadn’t planned for an _alien invasion_ of all things when she’d left their rooms earlier.

Summer break had made her soft. Headmaster Fury would have been disappointed.

A tiny unmanned drone, shaped like a dragonfly, fluttered into view. It patiently waited, hovering, as Peggy kicked the latest alien in the groin – these things clearly hadn’t learnt to wear codpieces, she thought – and then put a bullet in its brain to put it out of its misery. The inbuilt loudspeaker crackled for a moment, as though its owner was wincing in sympathy, before Leo Fitz’s voice issued through loud and clear.

“The West Wing and Front Entrance are under control, but there’s a new portal unchecked over on the South side of the school.”

The set of unmanned drones, seven in all, was the result of Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons' independent study project for Personal Development class last year. Originally conceived to collect and study samples from hostile environments, the drones had over the course of the year evolved into something much more akin to remote-controlled miniature fighter jets, and now put the FitzSimmons team on nearly equal footing with the students who had a combat-related Ability. The pair had even won the _Avenger Initiative_ – a school-wide award for students who had gone far above and beyond what their Ability conventionally dictated – for their invention last year.

She had a feeling Tony Stark was going to blow them all out of the water, though, if the Iron Man suit was any indication. Who’d ever heard of a technophile on the _frontlines_?

Speaking of Stark, he was looping over the rooftops, headed for the southern sections of the school. He’d clearly heard Fitz, then, despite being several hundred metres above them. Peggy briefly wondered what sort of range his speakers had, even as she was busy holstering her pitiful pistol and holding her arms out for Steve. He would cover the distance much faster than she could on her own, even weighed down.

“I don’t suppose someone could get me a submachine gun?” she wondered out loud.

The little unmanned drone crackled thoughtfully, easily keeping pace with Steve, and swerved off to shoot one of the aliens ahead.

“No, Grumpy, _five_ millilitres of dendrotoxin. Not two millilitres!” Simmons’ voice issued through, sounding put out, and the drone veered back to shoot the alien again. This time, it fell from the scooter, and Steve made sure to land on what passed for its ribs. Even Peggy could hear the splintering noise that indicated _something_ breaking.

“Jemma, we only have so much dendrotoxin!” Fitz sounded horrified. “You’re going to finish all of it on the first day of school?”

“Any less and they get back up, Fitz! I’ll just have to book extra sessions in the Biology lab when we fly past southern East Africa.” In contrast, Simmons didn’t sound worried at all.

“I’m not helping you catch mambas again!” Fitz was, understandably, less enthused. Peggy remembered the mamba-catching competition that had inevitably sprung up last year, while Simmons was trying to get her supply of dendrotoxin straight from the source. Eight people landed in the Hospital Wing before Prof Banner managed to synthesise a better antidote than the commercially-available ones and made it compulsory for all mamba expeditions. Necessity being the mother of invention, and all that.

That wasn’t counting that one time a group’s collection box wasn’t fully secured and they ended up with poisonous snakes on the loose in the school for two days. As punishment, Fury made those students help Simmons milk all the mambas and then release them back into the wild.

Good times.

“Fitz, it’s not science if I don’t _dissect something_!” complained Jemma, before she cleared her throat. “Um, anyway, The Winter Soldier said he grabbed an extra submachine gun from the school armoury when he passed by. He’s…” she paused, undoubtedly consulting the feed from one of the other drones, “setting up position on the roof.”

Peggy eyed the distance from the ground to the roof thoughtfully, getting out of Steve’s arms. Six storeys up was a little far for Bucky to just toss it down, probably. “Can the drones carry it down?”

“Well, actually –”

“Special order, courtesy of Stark Delivery Services,” Iron Man interrupted, coming to a halt in mid-air in front of them, the submachine gun tucked under one arm. He absently shot another alien with a repulsor blast, before holding out the gun with a flourish and a bow.

“Thank you,” Peggy answered, taking it from him. Prof Strange had somehow – she didn’t really want to know, quantum dimensional theory hurt her brain – modified the S.H.I.E.L.D. standard-issue weapons such that they never ran out of ammunition, which was really useful in times like this.

She surveyed the field with a practiced eye. The portal had been left unchecked for a few minutes, so the sky was dotted with scooters and the occasional turtle. A good thing that this probably wasn’t meant to be the main invading force, because when she left the front entrance looked akin to an aerial aquarium with the sheer number of turtles.

One of the scooters exploded overhead, and the three of them – Iron Man, Steve and her – all looked up simultaneously. Bucky preferred the precision of a sniper rifle, so that couldn’t have been him.

Clint’s silhouette was barely visible in the moonlight, perched on the edge of another roof. Apparently the mind control had worn off, though Peggy couldn’t tell how.

“Cognitive recalibration,” Natasha said from behind her, replying to her unasked question, and then elaborated, “I hit him really hard in the head.”

Another explosion lit up the night sky. Whatever it was, Clint seemed to be really pissed off – usually the archer preferred to save his precious explosive arrows. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the scientists at S.H.I.E.L.D. were devils in disguise; Clint probably had to sell his firstborn for his custom-made arrows. There was a very good reason why, even after four years at S.H.I.E.L.D., Peggy resolutely stuck to standard-issue weaponry.

Steve gave Natasha a nod, evidently taking her word for it, and readied his shield as the first wave of aliens began coming within range. “Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?”

“Are you kidding me?” asked Stark, shooting into the air. “Give me a bit, I’m bringing the party to you.” He expertly weaved through two of the scooters, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was heading straight for the giant turtle.

“I…” Natasha paused, her tone just on the borderline of bemused as they watched Stark loop through the air, every single airborne scooter on his tail. “I don’t see how that’s a party.”

Two of the aliens fell, their heads punctured by clean neat holes that were the hallmark of Bucky’s sniping style. But there were far too many, and Iron Man was alone in the air. He wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever.

Natasha’s lips pursed, her Widow’s Bites sizzling as she started walking forwards.

“If you want to get up there, you’re going to need a ride.”

She barely glanced back at Steve, her eyes tracking Stark’s progress through the sky. “I got a ride. I could use a boost, though.”

One of FitzSimmons’ drones shot past them, high into the air, and Clint’s voice came through loud and clear. “Stark, make some tight manoeuvres. These things can’t bank worth a damn.”

Iron Man flipped himself over in the air and dived down, just as his previous position was peppered with laser blasts. “I will… roger that.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah.” Natasha shrugged carelessly, taking a few steps backwards. She’d clearly taken the ‘party’ comment to heart. “It’s gonna be fun.”

Peggy fired on the nearest alien, the spray of bullets knocking him out of the scooter just as Natasha landed on the back of it. “Okay, turn, turn,” she could hear the redhead muttering, wrestling with the controls, and then her loud curses as the scooter nearly crashed into a wall. “Less! Less!”

Iron Man streaked past her like a glittering gold-and-scarlet comet, doing some form of complicated aerial acrobatics that resulted in a mid-air collision between several of the scooters. Natasha ducked away from the explosion, her pilfered scooter shuddering in the shockwave, and one of the other aliens came closer to shoot at her.

Big mistake.

Natasha launched herself at the alien, knocking it backwards, and plunged her Widow’s Bites into its throat. She hefted the plasma-laser-bayonet it had been using, testing the full extent of its range with a few experimental shots.

Peggy gunned down another wave of aliens, wondering if she should attempt to pilot a scooter of her own. The problem was, of course, that she needed both hands to use her gun, and her own Ability required skin contact to work. The latter was hardly a situation she wanted to be caught in when up against aliens wielding laser bayonets. Her best bet was probably to stay on the ground and provide covering fire for the aerial combatants, like what Steve was doing.

Behind her, she heard the doors open again. Whirling around – trusting Steve to watch her back for the second she needed to make sure the aliens hadn’t snuck up on them – Peggy was confronted with the other two freshmen who had been at Stark’s table during lunch. The woman was carrying some kind of tank on her back, connected to a hose in her hand, while the man was dressed in a blue-and-white metal suit. Before she could open her mouth, the white faceplate clicked into place, and the second metal suit shot into the air.

“Tony,” sighed the woman in what could be termed _fond exasperation_ , stepping forwards. Then she pointed the nozzle of her hose upwards and switched it on.

It was a _flamethrower_.

Peggy could completely appreciate the benefits of befriending a technophile now. You get the _best_ stuff.

The doors banged open again, and this time Prof Hand marched into their midst, arms akimbo, heedless of the aliens bearing down upon her.

“Get out of the way!” yelled Peggy, but she needn’t have bothered, for the two Iron Mans were already diving away as fast as they could at the sight of Victoria Hand. Clearly _some_ people kept up with the news. She dropped down onto the ground, covering her ears, but she could still hear Prof Hand’s voice, crystal clear and cold as ice.

“That. Is. _Enough_.”

The world ground to a shattering halt, the sudden cessation of the general clamour of alien shrieks and laser shots deafening to her ears. Overhead, several explosions occurred. Peggy chanced a glance upwards, just in time to see yet another two scooters collide, the pilots frozen in whatever passed for fear in their species.

She wasn’t exactly sure _what_ Prof Hand’s Ability was, but it was capable of inducing utter terror to the point of total paralysis.

Peggy struggled to her feet again, her legs feeling like jelly. Even when it hadn’t been directed at her, getting caught in the backlash was bad enough that she just really wanted to sit down. The other students could handle the clean-up; Simmons was probably overjoyed at the prospect of getting to dissect something on the first – well, probably second by now – day of school.

One of the drones swooped past. “I gotta go, Skye’s in the Hospital Wing – some idiot detonated a bomb at the front entrance and she had to absorb all the seismic shocks before it could destabilise the whole school.”

Peggy winced in sympathy. “Give her my regards,” she called out, forcing the slight tremor out of her voice by sheer willpower alone. The trio of freshmen staggered nearer, and she felt obligated to say something to them, perhaps some words of encouragement, given her position as the student council president.

“So. How was your first day at school?”

Stark grinned brightly, looking completely unaffected by Prof Hand’s Ability. Then again, he might have been protected by his metal suit. “That was fun. Can we do that again?”

The flamethrower-wielder shook her head, looking exhausted. “Please tell me it’s not always going to be like this.”

Peggy could only shrug in reply.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually managed to refrain from naming Sitwell "I believe I can fly~". I feel like should get a medal for this. But I couldn't resist making Garrett a clairvoyant #SorryNotSorry
> 
> **World-building dump!**
> 
>   * S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy motto: You can accomplish anything once you realise you can be a part of something bigger.
>   * Peggy is part of Nick Fury's Howling Commandos, his elite team of superheroes
>   * I totally couldn't decide between "Fury of the One Eye" and "The One-Eyed Fury" (and yes, I did think of Greek furies).
>   * Staff: Nick “The One-Eyed” Fury, Phil “Agent” Coulson, Melinda “The Cavalry” May, Bruce “The Incredible Hulk” Banner, John “The Clairvoyant” Garrett, Jasper “Top Brass” Sitwell, Maria “The Deputy” Hill, Victoria Hand
>   * Seniors: Steve “Captain America” Rogers, Peggy “Sweet Dreams” Carter, James “The Winter Soldier” Barnes, Sam “The Falcon” Wilson, Thor “The God of Thunder” Odinson, the rest of the Howling Commandos
>   * Juniors: Clint “Hawkeye” Barton, Natasha “Black Widow” Romanov, Wanda “Scarlet Witch” Maximoff, Pietro “Quicksilver” Maximoff, Skye “Rising Tide” Johnson, Loki “The Trickster” Laufeyson, Bobbi Morse
>   * Sophomores: Jane Foster, Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz, Alphonso Mackenzie, Sif, Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun, Donnie Gill
>   * Freshmen: Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Darcy Lewis, Vision, Lance Hunter
>   * This is of course not an exhaustive list
>   * Peggy's Ability (i.e. her superpower) allows her to selectively render any living thing that comes into contact with her unconscious. Yes, she caught 107 mambas last year. Yes, this is an Agent Carter reference.
> 

> 
> [I have a Tumblr if you're interested!](starriewolf.tumblr.com)


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